


A Cold Reunion

by MadgefromGelert



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadgefromGelert/pseuds/MadgefromGelert
Summary: Hawke and Merrill are minding their own business when an attack comes out of nowhere. The Hero of Ferelden has a bone to pick with them about the clan.





	A Cold Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the events of DA2. I've been thinking about this meeting for a while and finally decided to write it.

Alexander Hawke heard the whistling and moved before he consciously recognized the sound, shoving Merrill out of the way of an oncoming arrow. It hit right where her head would have been. He drew his daggers, wildly looking around for the source of the attack. It didn’t take him long to find. Two elves were struggling. One had a grip on the other’s bow. He ran towards them, and as he drew closer he realized it was a man and a woman. The man had just wrenched the woman’s weapon away from her when he reached them.

“Zevran?” He asked incredulously, gaping in surprise. The last time he had seen the golden haired Antivan, the elf was helping him fight Meredith.

“Champion.” The elf nodded politely while still struggling to keep the other getting her bow back. “How wonderful to see you looking well.”

“Why did you attack us?”

“It wasn’t really my decision. In fact if I had known Arwen was going to strike I would have stayed farther away.”

Alexander turned his full attention towards the woman for the first time. She had halted her attempts to reach her weapon and was glaring at him. She was striking. Black hair, somewhat escaping it’s braid, a slender face, piercing gold, slightly angled eyes. She wore elven armour and a Dalish tattoo decorated her face. He was about to ask her why she wished them harm when he heard a startled intake of breath right behind him.

“Arwen?” Merrill gasped disbelievingly. She pushed past Alexander, and went to wrap her arms around the other Dalish. He saw a glint of steel in the woman’s hand and jerked his love back just as Arwen drove the dagger forward. Zevran grabbed her and held both her arms behind her back.

“Arwen!” Merril put her hand to her face where the sharp knife had just grazed her cheek. “Why?”

“Why?” Arwen spoke for the first time. Spitting out her words like they were poison. “You have the gall to ask me why I want to kill you when you murdered our clan.” Merrill’s face crumpled. Alexander pulled her into his side, knowing how broken up she still was.

“How dare you-“ He started to say, but was interrupted by the Dalish woman.

“Don’t speak shemlen. I know you helped her do it.”

“Arwen, the Keeper was possessed. I had no choice but to kill her. The the rest… They wouldn’t believe me.” Merrill tried to plead her case, but her clanmate was having none of it.

“Didn’t have a choice? You chose to keep that fucking mirror! You chose to learn from that demon. Everything that happened is because of you! Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?” Each of her words hit the woman Alexander loved like a blow. She shrunk further and further into his side with each one. “It nearly killed me, it killed Tamlen!”

“We never found his body, we don’t know that!” Merrill protested.

“Yes actually. We do.” Arwen’s jaw was clenched, her mouth a thin line. “Do you know what happens to people who have been Tainted, Merrill? They either die or become ghoul. Hopelessly corrupted, driven by the call of the Archdemon, not a Darkspawn, but no longer a person. Tamlen became one. He was with a group of Shrieks that attacked our camp one night, and he was killed with them.”

Merril large, green eyes, filled with tears. “I was trying to help.” She spoke through the lump in her throat.

“Help yourself. No one else.”

“That’s not true.” Now the Mage was getting angry. “I was trying to help Tamlen, help our people.”

“Don’t fool yourself.” Arwen’s mouth curled into a sneer. “You wanted to be the saviour of our people. Merrill, Keeper of lost history, revealer of the Eluvians.”

“How do you know that word?” Merrill reeled back.

“You’re not the only one who can discover things about our past. And I didn’t have to consort with demons to learn.” The archer turned her head to look at the elf still restraining her. “Are you going to keep holding me?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I promise to be on my best behaviour?” She had a wheedling tone to her voice that was obviously Zevran’s weakness as his mouth softened, his grip however didn’t.

“The last time I believed that promise, lovely, you killed someone right after I let you go. We’ll stay this way until the Champion and his friend have gone safely on their way.” He kissed her cheek, and she huffed in annoyance.

“What did you learn?” Merrill burst out, clearly impatient with the way that the conversation had turned.

“Why would I tell you?” The anger that had left Arwen’s voice when she was talking with Zevran, returned the moment Merrill started talking again. It was different now though, more resigned.

Alexander decided it was time to take some control of the conversation. “I assume that you are Arwen Mahariel?” He asked the other woman.

“Just realizing that now?” She shot him an icy glare.

“Sorry, just the way Merrill spoke of you I expected you to be different.”

Arwen raised an eyebrow, in a glorious display of disdain. “ Well, you’re exactly how I pictured the Champion of Kirkwall, shemlen.”

“From what she said, I thought you were kind, brave, and loyal, not someone who ambushes their friends over circumstances they don’t know enough about.” He said, ignoring the dig.

“She’s not my friend.” Arwen spat. “My friends were Tamlen, Fenarel, Hahren Paivel, Maren, and Keeper Marethari. And you killed them. You killed Ashalle!” Arwen’s voice broke, and her whole body shuddered. “The woman who raised me. The woman who was like a mother to me.” Suddenly she broke down, shoulder shaking as sobs racked her body. Zevran’s grip on her changed from restraining her, to comforting.

“Hush now, lover.” He murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Arwen…”Merrill looked aghast at seeing how devastated the other girl truly was.” I’m sorry. I’m really, truly sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Then she was crying too, and both women were sobbing, and suddenly hugging. Finally Arwen pulled away. Alexander discreetly grabbed his knives, just in case she turned violent again. But she just wiped her eyes and regarded Merrill, ice back in her eyes.

“I can’t forgive what you did.” She stated, her voice even. “Even if what you say is true, I still can’t forget.”

Merrill nodded resignedly, tears still leaking from her eyes. She looked up and met the other woman’s golden stare. Without another word Arwen turned and started to walk away.

“Champion.” Zevran offered his hand for Alexander to shake. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but my lover rather ruined the moment. May the next time we happen to meet, be under better circumstances.” After Hawke clasped his hand he turned and followed the Hero of Ferelden. In no time at all the two elves had vanished.

“She’s right.” Merrill whispered.

Alexander could see that there was nothing he could say that would convince her otherwise. So he wrapped his arms around her, kissed her forehead and held her tightly. Knowing that only time could heal her wounds, and then only imperfectly. But he would help her. She would never be without him.


End file.
